Taming Frenzied Butterflies
by ownedbyacat
Summary: Saizō and Kamanosuke are trying to find a healer who could save Rokurō's eye. Along the way, Saizō finds out why Kamanosuke is so reluctant to take his clothes off and realises that he might actually have a soft spot for the redhead
1. Close Quarters

**Author's Note: ** Y'all know that I don't own Brave 10, right? But that doesn't mean I can't play with the characters a little. The setting is canon-ish, the story's mine.

It started with me wondering why Kamanosuke is so reluctant to take his clothes off, if Saizo might actually have a soft spot for the redhead, what Sanada would do if Rokuro was close to death, and if Rokuro would really rather be maimed for life than let go of his famous control - at least for a little bit. So, in the aftermath of the attack on Rokuro, and Ana's betrayal, Sanada sends Saizo and Kamanosuke to find a healer who may be able to restore Rokuro's eye.

And, of course, the redhead manages to irritate Saizo no end. Or does he?

* * *

**Close Quarters**

They had barely left Ueda, and already Saizō contemplated murder. In great detail and vivid colour, because the brat was simply too annoying. He clung like a limpet... well, not literally. Kamanosuke actually hated to be touched, but he clung just as effectively. And without Sanada or one of the others to distract the redhead, the constant attention made Saizō's head ache. It was almost as irritating as travelling with Isanami.

The woman commented on every damned thing she saw – and quite a few she didn't – and demanded food and home comforts at the most inopportune moments, while Kamanosuke...

"Saizō, I'm booooored! Let's fight!"

...Kamanosuke whined and wanted to fight. Saizō scowled and slumped in the saddle. He knew what the redhead was like, so why _had_ he agreed to ride north to find a healer with Yuri Kamanosuke by his side?

He'd done it for the old man, of course. Or maybe Rokurō, whose life hung by a thread. Saizō respected the quiet brunet who guarded Sanada. Rokurō was loyal and Saizō understood loyalty. It pleased him, too, to see that the Lord of Ueda returned the sentiment. Since the attack on Rokurō, Yukimura had barely moved from the man's side. He had fought like a tiger to combat the effects of the poison Ana had used. And when he had asked if Saizō would ride north, the samurai had not thought twice about accepting the errand.

"Saizō, come and look!"

The eager voice set Saizō's teeth on edge. The pup hadn't stopped yapping since they left the castle, and Saizō wished for the peace of a roof, an empty road or one of Sasuke's oak trees.

"Saizō!"

Saizō sighed. Clearly, there was no peace to be had on this road. He swung down from his mount, caught the reins of the redhead's horse, which the idiot had just left to wander, and hobbled it alongside his own. No doubt, Kamanosuke wanted him to watch another demonstration of his prowess. Not for the first time Saizō wished he'd kept his mouth shut. Calling Kamanosuke's battle tactics clumsy had been a bad move.

A trail of snapped twigs and torn leaves led into the undergrowth and Saizō followed the signs of the redhead's careless passage. How Kamanosuke had survived for so long was a mystery to the Iga nin. The brat was loud, impatient and completely heedless. And he'd clearly never been taught woodcraft.

When he found Yuri, the redhead stood at the edge of a clearing. Saizō stepped closer and the green eyes lit with excitement. Then the kusarigama's chain whirled, turning the sickle into a wheel of destruction.

"Saizō... watch!"

Kamanosuke called his special wind technique, wrapping the clearing in a maelstrom of strong gusts, but barely touching the leaves on the trees. "See," he gloated, "strong _and_ accurate. How will you attack me now?"

Without a word, Saizō spun alongside Yuri's unprotected flank and put a kunai to his throat. "Like this?" he suggested.

"Bastard," Yuri snarled. "I was demonstrating an attack!"

"Don't assume that anyone at your back is your friend."

The redhead froze at the words. The wind attack faltered and died, and the kama dropped to Yuri's side with a soft swish and a clink of chain. "I don't need you to tell me that."

The pain in the low, soft tones – so unlike Kamanosuke's usual shouts – stunned Saizō. But before he could figure out what to say or do, the redhead slid out from between Saizō's body and the knife and stalked away, spine stiff and shoulders around his ears.

Saizō ground his teeth in frustration.

_Now what?_

For the next hours, Saizō had the silence he craved. Kamanosuke sat his mount, back straight, neck tight and eyes distant. Every now and then, one of his hands would clench around the reins until the knuckles shone white and the horse sidestepped nervously. And Saizō concluded that riding beside a silent Kamanosuke wasn't peaceful. It was uncomfortable.

The question was what he should do about it. Ignoring the incident was clearly not an option. Kamanosuke had a past, and Saizō had trespassed where he wasn't wanted.

By late afternoon, they reached a settlement almost too small to be called a village. A few houses lined the road, but one of them was an inn. Which suddenly looked very inviting.

"We'll stay here overnight," Saizō said and pulled his horse up. Kamanosuke didn't argue. He didn't comment. He merely jumped off his mount and reached for Saizō's bridle, while Saizō entered the building to find the proprietor and bespeak dinner and a room for the night.

ooo XXX ooo

The room was larger than Saizō had expected from such a small, out of the way place, and he began to understand why the owner demanded almost double the standard room rate. Saizō haggled, but more for appearance's sake. Sanada had handed him a generous travel allowance and told him to use it. The inn was clean and peaceful and their room all ready to be occupied.

Two thick futons were laid out on opposite walls, pillows stacked and blankets neatly folded, and Saizō gratefully dropped his pack beside one of them. The shoji screen to his right opened onto a small terrace, beyond which lay a rock garden. Miniature maple trees grew in shallow stone containers and water trickled down a carefully sculpted cascade. It was unexpectedly elaborate for an out-of-the-way inn and Saizō was grateful he had chosen to stop.

"Do we have to stay here?"

Saizō turned, surprised by the unease he heard in Kamanosuke's tone. "It's better than camping in the rain."

"It's not raining."

"It will be."

"You can't know that," Kamanosuke scowled, pointedly ignoring the line of dark clouds along the horizon and not moving from his position by the door. "We have an errant in the north and the old man told us to make haste. You're wasting half the afternoon by stopping here."

The brat was right, of course, but Saizō wasn't going to say so. Neither was he going to admit that he wanted to give Kamanosuke a chance to snap out of whatever dark mood Saizō's comment had put him in. Though judging by the scowl and the tension in the younger man's shoulders, the offer of a night of comfort and uninterrupted sleep wasn't doing it.

Well, Saizō wasn't going to give up so easily. Nobody who'd met him would fault the kid for his dedication. Yuri was a plucky fighter with enough nervous energy for three men and he trained almost constantly. A challenge should be an easy way to get his attention.

With a last wistful look at the tranquil rock garden, Saizō made sure all his weapons were to hand and turned towards the door. "Are you coming?"

"What?" The redhead looked up, green eyes suspicious.

Saizō relaxed his stance and let a grin curl his lips. "I thought you wanted to work on that new technique of yours."

"I did..."

"Think you could tighten it?"

"Into a blade! And then direct it where I want it?" Kamanosuke straightened, suddenly excited. "I battle your sword with a blade of air!"

"Hardly," Saizō scoffed, caught up in the younger man's enthusiasm. "You _might_ be able to turn a spinning kama into a blade, but direct it quickly enough?"

Kamanosuke was keen to prove him wrong. Without further argument, he crossed the room, dropped his bundle beside the other futon and followed Saizō out of the inn and into the nearby woods. They faced off in a small clearing and Saizō dropped into a fighting stance.

"Now, let's see you focus that air."

ooo TBC ooo


	2. Uneasy Rest

**Uneasy Rest**

Two hours later Saizō was decidedly short of breath and desperately in need of a bath. Kamanosuke wasn't in much better shape. His voice grated, scratchy from yelling and he swayed with exhaustion. The small clearing looked as if two armies had met in battle, but Kamanosuke now controlled a blade of air. Admittedly, his control was haphazard at times – wavering with the redhead's temper – but it was a much better start than Saizō had expected. And though he wouldn't say it aloud, the samurai was impressed.

"One more time," he yelled across the expanse of trampled grass, jumping high as a tightly bundled stream of air shot towards him. At the last moment, Kamanosuke yanked on the kusarigama's chain, the air stream changed direction and Saizō felt heat along his bicep instead of the blunt force he'd come to expect from the redhead's wind attack.

_It cuts. Now that is ... interesting._

He somersaulted in midair and narrowly avoided the next strike while closing the distance between himself and the redhead. Now that Kamanosuke was working towards a more focussed attack technique, Saizō needed a workable defence and close-quarters seemed the best option. Get inside the other fighter's range and distract him.

Another hot slice along his arm told him he was underestimating the speed of Kamanosuke's air blade. He ducked under the whizzing chain and rolled out of the way of the slicing air coming up an arm's length away from the redhead. Heat streaked along his jaw – _the kama, shit!_ – and then Kamanosuke yelped and the howl of the wind died around them.

"Don't drop your guard, just because you've scratched me." Saizō's voice was calm and the hand holding the kunai to Kamanosuke's throat didn't waver. "You wouldn't do that if you faced an enemy."

"You're not an enemy," Kamanosuke argued, green eyes narrowed. "The old man sent us on an errant. We can't do our job if I cut you to ribbons."

"As if, brat." The kunai disappeared and Saizō ran fingers along his jaw line. They came away wet. He wondered if praise for the developing technique would help or hinder, but Kamanosuke promptly solved that problem for him.

"I'm not the one bleeding. You're getting slow, Saizō." The redhead bounced on the balls of his feet as he fingered the tear in Saizō's sleeve. "Admit it, Saizō, you didn't think I could do it!"

Saizō made a face. "I didn't think you could do it. Are you happy now?"

"Yes!" Despite his elation, the redhead sat down rather heavily in the middle of the clearing. Saizō had the urge to point out Kamanosuke's lack of stamina, but he bit his tongue. It seemed prudent, seeing that Yuri had developed a brand new wind technique to prove to Saizō that his attacks weren't clumsy. At least this way, Saizō reasoned, he might have the chance to sleep at the end of their daily travels.

While Kamanosuke caught his breath, the Iga nin squinted through the canopy at the gathering clouds, wondering if the rain might hold off long enough for him to take a bath and enjoy the garden at the inn. The clouds were a deep grey edged in black and massing over half the sky making it really too close to call.

"Come on, lazybones. We'd best get moving if you don't want to get wet."

"I don't mind a bit of rain," the infuriating redhead yawned, not moving from his position. "Can't we stay here? It's much more relaxing than the inn."

Saizō's eyebrows hit his hairline. "How can a patch of grass in the woods be more relaxing than a proper inn, you nitwit? I want a bath and a decent dinner. And I don't mind sleeping indoors and on a futon for a change."

Kamanosuke's green eyes caught fire at the insult. "It's safer out here. Inns are traps. If you want a bath, there's a stream. If you want dinner, we can cook something. And I'd rather sleep under a tree in the fresh air."

"Are you fucking serious? How can an inn be a trap?"

"Are you fucking stupid?" Kamanosuke was on his feet now, hands on hips and yelling. "But it figures. You wouldn't see a trap, even if you walked into it."

Saizō had no idea where all that sudden heat was coming from but it was easy to see that the redhead was fired up. And damn serious. And he looked as enticing as hell.

_Don't go there..._

Saizō swallowed and sent a few unkind wishes winging towards Ueda. He'd known the brat would be trouble, as soon as Sanada had suggested the journey. He'd known it and yet... when had he ever listened to his instincts?

"Bend your brain to this riddle, o mighty nin," Kamanosuke grated the words through his teeth. "How can such a smart-looking inn survive in an insignificant place like this, eh? This is not a trade route, the village is tiny and yet... "

"The innkeeper charges high prices. There's a caravan of pilgrims once a year and they pay so much, the innkeeper doesn't need customers for the rest of the time." Saizō scrabbled around frantically trying to come up with reasons. Any reasons. Anything at all that would negate the logic of Kamanosuke's words. "The inn is the daimyo's secret love nest."

The sound of Kamanosuke's laughter stopped him in his tracks. "And you tell me I'm crazy," the redhead chuckled as he made his way across the ruined clearing to Saizō's side. "It's like I said. You wouldn't see a trap even if you walked into it."

"So you'll stay at the inn with me?"

The redhead didn't pull off his nonchalant shrug. There was something in this proposition that really bothered him. But he found his voice after a time, along with some of his customary bravado. "I don't like it. But Sanada expects us back, so if you want to risk your life for a bath, I'm gonna look out for you."

xxX oOo Xxx

They reached the inn just as the rain was starting to turn from a drizzle into a downpour, so the chance of enjoying the peace of the gardens was gone. Then Kamanosuke insisted that they take turns getting cleaned up depriving Saizō of the long soak he'd been looking forward to. At least the redhead didn't decide to turn the innkeeper's wife away when she came to serve dinner.

It bothered Saizō how quiet the usually so boisterous man had been ever since they'd returned to the place. He sat beside the open shoji, eyes on the wet garden and face in a frown and Saizō had to call him three times before he consented to at least look at what was a splendid dinner.

The miso and eggplant soup was excellent, but Kamanosuke did not touch his bowl, just as he had left the beans in plum sauce and dish of carrot and wakame with sesame dressing. He ignored the green tea, the soy sauce and selection of pickles their host offered, even though Saizō knew the his companion usually relished everything sour and salty. Kamanosuke even shook his head at bottle of sake that Saizō tilted in his direction – just when the samurai had thought he'd found a way to wipe the frown from the redhead's face. But no, Kamanosuke stuck to small bites of rice and steamed fish, eating with a deliberation Saizō had never seen him display before.

"Are you...," it actually sounded too stupid to say out loud, but Saizō couldn't stop. "... waiting to succumb to poison?"

"Not poison," came the redhead's quiet reply. "Sleeping drugs. They taste bitter, so they hide them in soy or pickles or sake."

"They?"

"Innkeepers."

"And for why?" Saizō was feeling more than a little irritated with the redhead now. First the snit on the road – and Saizō conveniently forgot that he'd started that one – and now this paranoia. "It's not as if we carry anything worth robbing."

Deep green eyes measured him for the longest time. "You're of great value to an innkeeper, you just don't know it."

Saizō had no answer for that and Kamanosuke clearly didn't want to discuss the matter either. So Saizō continued his meal, but ate more slowly, almost as if he was waiting and watching for the effects of a drug. Nothing happened and soon the only sound in the room was the thrumming of rain on the roof.

Saizō stretched out on his futon, relaxing with a deep sigh into the cushions. He would not readily admit it, but he much preferred the comfort of a mattress to camping under trees. Especially when the rain poured down outside like an angry river. From the far side of the room came the soft rustle of Kamanosuke getting situated and Saizō smiled. Surely now, Kamanosuke would agree that staying at an inn had its advantages.

Their sparring match might have tired the redhead, but Saizō had soon to accept that it hadn't erased Kamanosuke's unease. He fussed with the pillows and blankets for the longest time and, once he'd settled, Kamanosuke lay rigid and unmoving. His breathing was shallow and strained and the tension surrounding him was thick enough to cut.

The redhead's strange behaviour made no sense to Saizō. They were as safe as two shinobi could ever be. This was an inn, not an enemy's hideout. And yet, the usually so heedless brat acted as if he had walked into an ambush and was waiting to be attacked. It made just as little sense as the brat's continuous attempts to goad Saizō into a fight and after a while the samurai gave up trying to puzzle out his companion.

Instead, Saizō recalled the jolt of heat he'd felt on first seeing Kamanosuke's face on the bridge. The fine, porcelain skin, the impossibly red hair draped loosely over one shoulder, the delicate tracery of the tattoo had all left their mark on Saizō's mind. He recalled the lean body draped over his on the ship and suppressed a shiver. The brat had been drunk – Kamanosuke would never have been that tactile otherwise – but that hadn't stopped Saizō from enjoying the contact. He obviously had a soft spot for the redhead. Or a rather hard one, depending on how he looked at the matter.

Of course, Sanada had seen it. Seen it and played on it. The man pretended to be a buffoon, just out for amusement, but Saizō had realised early that this was a long way from the truth. Sanada was perceptive and oddly compassionate. What he gained from arranging the people around him into ever-shifting patterns was something Saizō was unable to answer. He doubted if even Rokurō knew.

They had kept a nightlight burning so they wouldn't be blinded if they needed to fight. And in that dim shine Saizō saw the redhead move. Before he had time to blink, Kamanosuke stood on his futon, knife out, wide green eyes darting around the room.

"What is it? I can't hear anything!"

"Exactly. What happened to the fountain?"

Saizō stilled and listened. The rhythmic clack of the bamboo fountain that had accompanied their evening had stopped. "Kamanosuke, it's raining outside. Heavily. Maybe the fountain's overrun." It was as likely an explanation as any, though not one the redhead could easily accept. He settled back onto the mattress, but his body stayed alert, the knife held in a tense grip.

Saizō was almost asleep again when the sound of the fountain returned. Restless now, he dozed. He heard the fountain cut out once more, heard the rhythmic clacking return. And every time he woke or moved, eyes blinked open across the room and he found himself caught in a deep green gaze.

Kamanosuke slept like a cat. Forever aware of his surroundings and alert to every sound and movement. No wonder the brat liked to stay abed until the sun was high if he measured his rest in brief snatches.

"You're paranoid," Saizō mumbled at one such meeting of gazes, caught on the edge of sleep.

"But I am still alive."

* * *

**Author's Note: **

And there we stop for the moment. I hope you're having as much fun reading as I have writing it. If you do, please leave a review - I'd love to know WHAT you liked (or didn't).

And while you're here, can I ask a question? In the anime, Saizo introduces himself to Isanami as 'samurai', while actually, he grew up in a ninja village and seems to fit the "job description" of a nin. Wikipedia tells me that samurai were akin to medieval knights, while ninja were mercenaries / irregulars / skirmishers... so is there anyone reading who would know if the distinction is as clear cut as all that? I really don't want to describe him as a samurai when he's not.

Thanks a bunch... and see you soon!


	3. Lashes and Scars

**Lashes and Scars**

Morning couldn't come soon enough for Yuri Kamanosuke. He was so on edge it hurt, knowing that Saizō's life was under threat just as much as his own. More so, perhaps, since the stubborn bastard would never see it coming. Saizō saw the world in black and white in the mirror of his choices. He killed if he needed to, bled when it couldn't be avoided, picked himself up when he was knocked down and bowed his head to nobody. Saizō's code was a strict one, understood in the world of shinobi. Outside of it, though... Saizō wouldn't listen if he tried to explain, so Yuri had to keep an eye out for them both.

Saizō had gone back to sleep once the fountain's monotonous clacking resumed, but he didn't sleep as deeply as before. The nin was quicker to react to any sudden noises, Kamanosuke was pleased to note, and he kept his weapons closer.

"You're paranoid," Saizō accused once, voice heavy with sleep, when their eyes met across the room and Kamanosuke took it as a compliment.

"I'm still alive," he replied softly, almost awed.

He was alive. He was watchful. And if he could save the brunet's life by being paranoid, then he would. Saizō might be older, but he certainly wasn't wiser in all things.

Kamanosuke didn't change his mind once it was morning, either. The innkeeper's wife plied them with breakfast, offering far more food than the two of them wanted or needed, and tried to delay them in a myriad of small ways that set Kamanosuke's teeth on edge. He ignored all the delicacies laid out for them, sticking to plain rice and water. He would have loved to sample the broiled salted salmon and pickles, the salt and pepper octopus and sesame crusted vegetables... but he knew better. He could always wheedle Sanada's cook into making him his favourite dishes when he could enjoy them without the fear of collapsing into a drugged heap. Which reminded him...

"Saizō, can we get going? The old man told us to hurry. He wasn't planning on you stuffing your face until noon."

He'd put on his best whiny voice and all of a sudden the brunet was on his feet and Kamanosuke didn't bother hiding his grin. _Riling up Saizō was sooooo much fun! _And for a short while Saizō's irate glare let him forget his worries and pretend that they would ride north, find the healer and bring the man back to Ueda to help Rokurō without any adventures along the way.

Nobody followed them as they left the inn, but that didn't ease Kamanosuke's misgivings or the tightness in his neck. If his instincts served him – and they usually did – then the innkeeper would have a way of sending messages to the men who'd been spying on them the previous night. And somewhere along the road, a troop of armed men would be waiting.

Kamanosuke had expected Saizō to start quizzing him as soon as they were out of the village, but the Iga nin rode in silence. He wore his customary scowl, but the look in his eyes was one Kamanosuke didn't like. It made the brunet look older than his years. And tired.

Kamanosuke much preferred his companion riled, or scolding, or even properly angry, but he couldn't find the energy to think up a remark that would annoy Saizō. Kamanosuke hadn't slept in two days now, and he was wound too tight to even doze in the saddle. So he said nothing and tried to let the silence soothe him.

"Somebody's following us." Saizō's voice broke the silence and pulled Kamanosuke from his abstraction.

"Baka!" The redhead already had his weapon to hand and he felt his body humming with tension. "They're not following us; they're herding us into an ambush."

The road wound through a stretch of forest without villages or even a charcoal burner's settlement. Ferns spread like a living carpet between the trees and moss blanketed fallen trunks. There was nowhere to take cover, no defensible position... just trees and road and most likely a tightly surrounded clearing ahead.

"What in all creation are you talking about?"

Kamanosuke almost vibrated with impatience. "I _told_ you already!" he hissed. "You don't have to believe me. Just be ready." A flash of light amongst the trees, like a sunbeam striking metal, caught his attention. Anticipation curled in his gut, pushing him to scream, move, do... but he kept his seat and hid the white-knuckled grip he had on the kusarigama in his lap. He called on the rage, the part of him he kept locked away, using it to sharpen his senses like he would use a fire to warm himself if he was cold. Nobody was going to surprise him, or hurt Saizō. Not while they rode together.

Another flash of light snuck through the canopy and Kamanosuke drew a deep breath. Their pursuers were becoming careless. Or else they were close to the ambush site. Whichever it was, Kamanosuke was ready for them.

_xxX oOo Xxx_

Saizō slowed his horse, watching Kamanosuke follow suit. The brat was quivering like a bloodhound about to be unleashed and the tension in the lithe frame bothered the brunet shinobi. Hell, the whole situation bothered him! Yuri was normally heedless, not paranoid. Admittedly, the younger man could and did complain endlessly, but his most common complaint was boredom. Saizō had never heard him moan about good food or the chance to sleep under a roof. Nor had he ever seen him approach a fight with trepidation.

He had trouble understanding how the simple decision to spend the night at an inn had changed the boisterous redhead into a tense bundle of nerves. Or had that happened earlier when he'd joked about...

He sensed the kunai before he saw it and bent low over his horse's neck to miss the flying blade, heels digging into the animal's side without conscious thought. Ambush or not, they had to move forward. Kamanosuke needed room to deploy his special wind technique and Saizō, though he didn't mind close combat, would rather see whom he was fighting.

The six men who stepped from the trees as the horses entered the clearing wore homespun and their weaponry was haphazard. They looked better fed and carried staffs and knives, but the resemblance to the men who had stood with Kamanosuke on the bridge was uncanny. Was _that_ how Kamanosuke seemed to know the practices of robbers?

"Just look at you! You are a disgrace," Saizō heard the redhead snort in disdain. Before he could move, Kamanosuke had cleared his mount and unleashed a maelstrom of air at the men before them.

"Idiot." Saizō dismounted and sent the horses into the trees, out of the way of six men trying to subdue one crazy redhead. As usual, Kamanosuke was blind to everything but the fight, not minding that he was surrounded, not caring that men were coming up behind him.

If Sasuke had been with him they would have had a strategy. They would work together to subdue their attackers without time or effort wasted. With the redhead, the best Saizō could do was guard his back and stay out of the fight else he put himself in danger.

Screams rent the air as Kamanosuke used his brand new wind blade to decapitate one of the attackers. Hoof beats thrummed in the woods behind them and Saizō span and faced the remaining three men of the troop.

_xxX oOo Xxx_

"Let me see that wound."

With Saizō and Kamanosuke going back to back, the fight had been over quickly. Their opponents hadn't been combat trained and Saizō guessed that they relied on numbers, intimidation and brute force to subdue their targets. They hadn't come close to Saizō, but one of them had managed to land a lucky hit on Kamanosuke, though Saizō hadn't realised that the redhead was bleeding until they recovered the horses close to the river and the beasts had balked at the smell of fresh blood.

"Let me see that wound," he repeated, stepping closer.

The redhead turned away and pulled his coat closer around himself. "Leave me alone. I'm fine."

"You're not _fine_," Saizō grated through clenched teeth, instantly irritated. Kamanosuke had been stretching his patience since they left Ueda and now Saizō was in no mood for charity. "You're bleeding. While that may not bother you, it bothers me. Not to mention attract every furry creature in the woods." He reached for the younger man roughly, twisting his uninjured arm behind his back, before pushing him to his knees. "Lie. Down."

Holding the collar of Kamanosuke's coat, he pushed the redhead forward while yanking the coat towards himself. The brat howled and struggled, but Saizō was stronger and the fabric slid down the younger man's arms. Fresh blood stained the shirt underneath, spreading as Saizō watched.

"Yes, I can see you're fine," the brunet grumbled, his voice thick with sarcasm. He pulled the coat off completely and pushed Kamanosuke firmly onto his stomach. "Shut up and lie still, idiot. If we don't get the bleeding stopped you won't be going anywhere tomorrow."

"I've had worse injuries," the redhead complained and Saizō managed a snort.

"I'm sure you have, but not on my watch." He reached for bandages, keeping the younger man securely pinned with a knee in the small of his back. "Sanada is worried enough about Rokurō. Rescuing us is not in his plans."

He stripped the redhead of his shirt while talking to him, but the sight that met his eyes took his breath. Here was the reason why Yuri was so reluctant to take his clothes off and why he accepted violence as if it was an everyday occurrence. The kid had been beaten to within an inch of his life. And not just once. Thin silver scars criss-crossed the pale skin of his back like the web of a giant spider. The fresh cut from the attack, tracing from Kamanosuke's neck to the middle of his left shoulder blade, was merely one more mark amongst many.

"You're lucky, it won't need stitching," Saizō finally managed, voice rough. He covered the cut with a soft cloth and applied pressure until the bleeding stopped before winding bandages around the redhead's shoulder.

Yuri pushed upwards once Saizō tied the bandage off, clearly intent to escape the scrutiny, but the brunet stopped him. "Lie still," Saizō ordered, tracing warm, calloused fingertips softly over the many marks of violence.

Kamanosuke shivered under the gentle touch, but he no longer tried to get away. A quiet whimper escaped him and he buried his face in his arms to stifle the sound. The blush that spread over his face and neck was impossible to hide, but Saizō said nothing about it. He continued to trace the scars of old pain, slowly and carefully, as if his touch could erase the hurt.

_xxX oOo Xxx_

Kamanosuke woke to daylight and birdsong. His muscles felt stiff and his shoulder was sore, but the discomfort was easy to dismiss. He was alive and he'd had a lot worse. As he sat up he discovered that two thick blankets covered him and beside the saddle that served as his pillow lay a clean dark tunic and his white coat. The bloodstains were gone and the slash across the shoulder had been mended with tiny careful stitches.

Kamanosuke stared at the clothing. When had Saizō found the time to wash and mend Kamanosuke's coat? How long had he slept? He squinted at the sky. It had to be midmorning. And Saizō hadn't woken him to demand they get moving.

Warmth welled up in Kamanosuke – something more than gratitude for Saizō's thoughtfulness. It wasn't a feeling he was familiar with. It burned, made him hot and irritable as if his skin was too tight and would split at any moment. Or maybe, he just needed a bath. He was dusty, after all, and dried sweat and blood always made his skin itch. Kamanosuke rolled to his feet, reached for the tunic and coat and headed for the river.

The icy water cooled his fever-hot skin. He scrubbed himself clean and even managed to wash his hair without too much discomfort from his injured shoulder. He was drying off when warm arms suddenly wrapped around his middle and his bare back met an equally bare chest.

"You don't need to hide from me," Saizō's voice purred close to his ear when he struggled to get loose. "Not anymore."

The redhead shivered. Saizō's voice stirred strange feelings in his chest. Hot breath on his neck sent a wave of need through him and was that a tongue tracing the shell of his ear?

"Scars are a sign that you've survived. That you were stronger than your enemy. Wear them as a badge of strength and courage."

The brunet's voice was even lower now, more vibration than sound. It turned shivers of pleasure into shudders and weakened knees, so that the redhead was grateful for the arms wrapped around his waist. "You don't have that many scars," Kamanosuke said, pleased when his voice sounded almost normal.

Saizō chuckled. It wasn't a happy sound. His teeth closed around an earlobe and bit down until the redhead's body arched helplessly. "I just don't carry all my scars where you can see, brat," he rumbled. "Now get ready. We need to be on our way."

_xxX TBC Xxx_

**Author's Note:** And there it is... an unexpected surprise for Saizō, and the boys are still no closer to finding the healer they seek. Hope you enjoy. Reviews and comments are always welcome. And that said, a very special thank you to **EverDarkDreamer** for helping out. Was this where you thought the story would go?

And finally: I don't own the characters, just the plot bunny.


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